Canvas
Memory’s painted canvas—
stretched, wrapped,
stapled to a frame,
overpainted time and again.
Curiosity scratches
at the tender outer image,
applied yesterday,
or the week before,
(who can remember?)
finding colorful specks
layers deep,
a notching of nostalgia,
chiseled second guessing,
whittled flecks
of regretting
and fear of forgetting,
then looking for another brush,
another tube of paint—
Cadmium Yellow? Cerulean Blue?
Viridian?
That certainly puts a whole range of feelings in to a few gloriously chosen words…
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Oh! Thank you!
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